


time goes by (and I can't control my mind)

by SkyRose



Series: Game of Requirement 2019 [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bisexual Ginny Weasley, Denial of Feelings, F/F, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Lesbian Pansy Parkinson, Love/Hate, Mild Smut, Quidditch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-26 14:20:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19770010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyRose/pseuds/SkyRose
Summary: She was near Pansy, hovering above the ground on her broom. It was early enough in autumn that the constant chill hadn’t settled in, so Weasley was wearing Muggle joggers and a tank top. Pansy was surprised at the depth of definition in her arms. Chaser’s needed good throwing arms, so it made perfect sense, but…Pansyreallywanted to touch them.In which Pansy Parkinson learns the line between love and hate is blurry and that she may have a thing for freckles.





	time goes by (and I can't control my mind)

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt #63 She's not sure when it happens, but her disdain for the other woman turns to either **1) a hate-crush** ~~-OR- 2) mutual respect with secret pining -OR- 3) an awkward courtship.~~
> 
> I also chose #62 and #75 from The List which are:  
> -Focus on freckles  
> -Watching someone at Quidditch practice
> 
> I had a lot of fun with this and I think it shows in some of the scenes. I rarely write from a Slytherin-POV so I made sure to get my use out of it! I like writing snark, okay!!

Somehow Pansy Parkinson was back at Hogwarts. She half-expected to erupt in flames as soon as she stepped off the train. That didn’t happen, which admittedly wasn’t odd, but what was odd was the friendly smile Potter through her way in the Great Hall. 

Pansy could recognize an olive branch when she saw one, with as many disagreements she’s been apart of, but she sure didn’t expect one from Potter. Especially so soon.

All the Gryffindors were in a jolly mood. The ruckus they unleashed at every first-year that was sorted into their house was much louder than years prior. The Slytherins could barely manage polite applause. 

“What are they so bloody happy about?” Pansy asked aloud in a snappy tone. She glared at a seventh-year jumping up from their chairs when the Sorting Hat announced another, “Gryffindor!” It was the youngest Weasley, the only girl, and the Chosen One’s girlfriend. Maybe not anymore, depending on that Wizarding tabloid a witch chose to read.

“Not dying, I suppose,” Draco drawled in the seat next to Pansy.

Weasley was clapping Longbottom on the back, her freckled-face with a wide smile. Pansy’s glared sharpened at the sound of her laugh. “Oh boy,” she deadpanned. “How wonderful.”

\---

It was Sunday morning. Pansy was nursing a mighty Fire Whiskey hangover while trying to get her Transfiguration paper finished. Everything was going fine enough, as fine as things could be when Pansy had to shut her eyes every thirty seconds to fight her headache. 

Then the Gryffindors wandered into the library.

She very nearly threw her quill at the nearest, which was Dean Thomas. It would be like throwing darts and his dumb arse was the bullseye. She resisted the urge, loudly huffing her grievances as the group settled into a nearby table.

It appeared the courageous folk of Hogwarts didn’t have anyone weekend parties to celebrate the end of the first week, as Slytherin did. Well, Pansy did. Just because everyone else sat around all sad and gloomy in the dungeons doesn’t mean Pansy couldn’t have a good time. 

Now, however, she certainly wasn’t having a good time.

Female-Weasley laughed at something Male-Weasley said, most likely at his expense by her tone and his frown. It wasn’t a piercing sound to Pansy, who doubled over her parchment and scrambled to cover her ears. Once it ceased, Pansy stood from her chair and hurried away from the Gryffindors.

She wandered into rows of shelves. She had been meaning to get up and find another book, but standing made her head spin. Laughing gingers did too, apparently.

But she found no sanctuary among the dusty pages of books that probably hadn’t been touched in over a century, because a red ponytail swung into her peripheral vision.

Pansy ignored it, continuing to flip through a truly riveting passage on the Pullus Jinx.

“Rumour has it you and Tracey Davis are dating,” Ginevra Weasley wondered aloud, slyly looking at Pansy over a beginner’s Potions textbook that she clearly wasn’t actually reading.

“One day the students of Hogwarts will learn the difference between snogging and dating,” Pansy gritted out. She had a very fuzzy memory of climbing into Davis’ personal space the previous night. Rumours do travel fast in the castle walls.

Weasley hummed, looking all too pleased by Pansy’s response. “So it was a non-committal snog, that’s all?”

“A drunk non-committal snog,” Pansy clarified. “Why do you care? You want me to climb in your lap too?”

Weasley clammed up, but it was clear she had something else she wanted to say. Pansy nearly snapped at her to  _ spit it out already _ . She had already swapped far too many words with her, so she opted for a huff and dramatic strut out of the library. 

And if her cheeks were slightly pink at her own thought of snogging the freckled-face seventh-year, Pansy surely ignored it.

\---

Pansy was waiting for Goyle in the common room. They were meant to work on their Potions homework together after he finished with Quidditch Practice. Pansy would normally say no to such requests, but Goyle had been looking rather depressed lately. Pansy wasn’t totally cruel. 

He was running late, of course. Finally emerging into the common room with a heaving chest. “Sorry — ah — practice — ugh — ran long,” Goyle puffed as he took a seat next to Pansy.

“Whatever,” Pansy replied, pushing her textbook to the middle of the table from them both to read. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Goyle nodded, but then started searching the pockets of his robes and trousers. “Er… wait.”

“What?” Pansy snapped.

“I think I left my wand in the locker room.”

Pansy closed her eyes, willing herself to relax. “Gregory.”

“I’m sorry, Pans! I’ll go get it! I’ll be back before—”

“No, no,” Pansy interrupted as she stood. “I’ll come with you. You’ll probably leave your brain lying somewhere if I don’t babysit you.”

They hurried out of the dungeons and towards the Quidditch pitch. Pansy shot down Goyle’s attempts at small talk, silently furious at him. Draco was making his way back to the castle and crossed their path.

“Leave your wand again?” he asked Goyle, a clear twinkle of amusement in his grey eyes.

Goyle laughed miserably as Pansy gestured for him to keep moving. When they neared the pitch, Pansy could hear another team was practicing. A few glimpses of red robes in the air clued her into it being the Gryffindors, of course.

They entered the pitch, Goyle hurrying to the locker room while Pansy waited in the stands. She did her best to hide herself from the practicing players.

“Not bad!” Weasley’s voice rang out in the pitch. She was near Pansy, hovering above the ground on her broom. It was early enough in autumn that the constant chill hadn’t settled in, so Weasley was wearing Muggle joggers and a tank top. Pansy was surprised at the depth of definition in her arms. Chaser’s needed good throwing arms, so it made perfect sense, but…

Pansy  _ really _ wanted to touch them. She wanted to poke and prod every freckle on Weasley’s bicep. She wanted to see if Weasley could hold her up against a wall and—

It was  _ far _ too early for those thoughts, especially ones with Gryffindors. They were saved for the dead of night in the dorms, when Pansy used her favorite vibration spell. Not the middle of the morning, as Pansy nearly drooled as she stared at Weasley.

Her flaming hair was up in a loose bun, some wisps had fallen down and stuck to the side of her face. She’d worked up quite a sweat already, a slight redness to her fair face under all those freckles.

“Found it!” Goyle announced, spooking Pansy.

“Brilliant,” Pansy stated. She hurried out of the pitch, grateful she didn’t have to stand there and wax her internal poetics about Ginevra Weasley.

_ You despise her,  _ Pansy reminded herself as rushed back to the castle.

\---

Luckily Pansy didn’t see the seventh-year ginger often. Mostly in passing amongst the halls or during meals. Weasley didn’t approach her with any rumour, so nothing significant happened for many weeks. Not that Pansy would make note of such a thing.

“Stop staring,” Blaise said one evening as dinner was nearing its end.

“I’m not staring,” Pansy denied. “I’m glaring.” She harshened her gaze at Weasley.

Blaise snorted, somehow making the sound more dignified. “What’s your problem with her anyway? Did she stick gum in your hair on the playground?”

“I’m not being childish,” Pansy argued, fiddling with her fork as a needed distraction. “She’s annoying, that’s all. Merlin, can’t a girl glare at another girl without it being some big deal?”

Blaise gave Pansy an unimpressed look. “I thought we argued that Draco was the only one insane enough to have a hate crush.”

“Pfft,” Pansy breathed. “I don’t have a hate crush, Zabini.”

“Keep lying to yourself, Parkinson,” Blaise replied.

Pansy smiled sweetly at Blaise, though her eyes were still dark with irritation. “That’s what Slytherins do best.” 

\---

The decision to go to Hogsmeade was a sudden one. Draco had a sudden, unwavering craving for peppermint toads. Blaise and Daphne agreed to go, and Pansy didn’t want to spend the day with Nott and Goyle, so she decided to join them. Her cauldron cakes stash was running low anyway.

Winter had settled in at Hogwarts. Pansy made wrap herself up in her emerald scarf. She had recently cut her hair again, her signature bob, leaving her neck exposed to the frigid air. The sacrifices she made for fashion. Oh well, she made a Slytherin scarf look good.

Draco placed a stack of galleons on the Honeydukes countertop and demanded, “I need all of your peppermint toads!” Mrs. Flume rose a finely trimmed eyebrow at him, but eventually nodded and flicked her wand. A sizable stack of candy appeared in front of Draco.

Once Pansy got her cakes and Blaise purchased a pack of Bertie Bott’s, they made their way to the Three Broomsticks. They gathered at a table next to one occupied by Longbottom and Abbott, who could be seen together with increasing frequency these days. 

“Honestly I may stay for Christmas,” Draco huffed as they discussed holiday plans. “It was hell being at the Manor over summer, besides all the Aurors poking around.”

Daphne nodded solemnly. “You could come over to our place if you’d like. I know Astoria would be happy to have you around.” Her expression lightened, humoured by her own suggestion

Pansy grinned at that. “Oh? Surely Narcissa isn’t trying to make that happy couple happen?”

Draco groaned, shoving his face into his hands. “That woman…”

“She wants you to be happy,” Blaise pointed out. “You could just tell her you’re gay and I’m sure she’d back off.”

“You’re such a devil’s advocate sometimes,” Draco complained. He took a long sip from his butterbeer before continuing, “Besides, I’m not Pansy. I can’t go around snogging every same-sex Slytherin until everyone knows I’m gay.”

“It was effective,” Pansy shrugged. “And the Howler I got from my mum was hilarious.”

Draco snatched her scarf off the tabletop, wrapping it around his fair neck. “C’mere Zabini! Let’s swap spit until the news has spread to my father all the way in Azkaban!” Blaise shoved Draco when he leaned into his space.

“We all agree you’re not Pansy,” Daphne stated. “But do you plan on telling Cissy anytime soon?”

“For Salazar’s sake, of course not!” Draco exclaimed. “Enough people hate me, I don’t need the homophobes breathing down my back too.”

Blaise turned his attention to Pansy. “How’d you work out the courage to come out? Channeling your inner lion?”

“Well had nothing to do with the Fire Whiskey I’ve got hidden in my trunk,” Pansy joked. “And I don’t know a single Gryffindor that’s gay, so maybe they’re not as brave as we’ve been led to believe.”

“You missed the recent gossip then,” Daphne purred, tapping her nails against the wooden table.

Draco perked up. “Are Finnigan and Thomas finally going at it?”

Daphne wrinkled her nose. “No! But last week Ginny Weasley gathered all the seventh and eighth-year Gryffs into their common room to announce she’s bisexual.”

Pansy frowned. “Well, I suppose if I lived with that many boys I’d crave feminine relations too.”

“You do,” Draco reminded her, eyebrows drawn together.. “You’re a lesbian.”

“We’re talking about Weasley, not me,” Pansy replied.

Blaise smirked.

“Don’t say anything, Zabini,” Pansy challenged, her fists clenching in her lap. “You’re utterly delusional.”

“Right,” Blaise deadpanned.

Daphne’s eyes shifted between them repeatedly. “What am I missing?”

“Do enlighten us,” Draco urged Blaise with a press of his elbow to Blaise’s ribs.

Blaise pushed him away again. “Our dear Pansy is in denial of her true feelings.”

“Uck,” Pansy sighed. “I hate all of you losers.”

“You’ve got a thing for She-Weasley?” Draco inferred with blatant shock all over his face.

“No,” Pansy answered simply. “Blaise is seeing patterns where they are none.”

Blaise laughed, slapping his hand down loud enough to attract some attention from nearby patrons. “Yesterday morning I could hear you counting under your breath,” he began before pausing to wheeze out another chuckle. “You were counting her freckles!”

“No, I wasn’t!” Pansy fought the flush wanting to overtake her complexion.

“Than what were you counting?” Blaise questioned. “Because you were looking at her.”

Pansy thought for a whole five seconds before blurting, “I was counting the number of assignments I needed to finish this weekend. I may be a procrastinator, but I do have some organization skills.”

“A Badger could lie better than that, Pans,” Blaise stated. Pansy may have shouted at him if he tried to continue his interrogation, but he graciously changed the subject, allowing Pansy face to lose its pink tint.

\---

Pansy and Daphne were making their way back to the castle, caught up in conversation, when a snow-filled breeze ruffled their robes. Pansy stopped in her tracks mid-sentence. Daphne continued for a few steps before she realized her friend was no longer at her side. She spun around and asked, “What’s wrong?”

A shiver ran down Pansy’s spine at the cold. “I forgot my scarf!”

“Way to go,  _ Gregory,” _ Daphne teased. “Don’t worry, I’m sure one of the boys will grab it.”

“No, no,” Pansy disagreed with a shake of her head. “I’ll freeze to death if I don’t—”

“Hey!” a voice called. “Parkinson!”

Pansy frowned as she turned to see who was shouting her name. Her jaw nearly dropped at the sight of Weasley running toward her, Slytherin scarf in hand. Her red hair waved in the wind, dotted with white snowflakes. Weasley stopped a few paces in front of Pansy.

“You left this,” Weasley stated, holding out Pansy’s scarf.

“Yes,” Pansy replied, grabbing her belonging and wrapping it around herself.

“You’re welcome.”

Pansy squinted at her. She hadn’t even realized Weasley was in the Three Broomsticks. She must have been sitting to Pansy’s back. Had Pansy known she was there, she wouldn’t have—

“Heard my name a few times from you and your crew,” Weasley began with a wide grin. “‘Course you could have talking about Ron.”

“Perhaps you spend too much time with Potter to know this, but eavesdropping is rather rude,” Pansy huffed, trying not to look at Weasley. She stared down at the snowy path below them.

Ginny laughed. It wasn’t the loud, obnoxious sound Pansy had been annoyed with in the library. It was softer, lighter, sending chills through Pansy like the wintry weather.

“You can’t blame me for being curious, can you?” Ginny asked, lifting up one of her eyebrows. She took a step closer as she said it, catching Pansy’s attention again. Pansy noticed a glint in her brown eyes that irritated her.

Pansy tightened her scarf, knuckles turning white as she gripped it. She turned around as she let out an exasperated puff of warm air into the cold. She stomped away, ignoring the second bout of Weasley’s light laughter.

\---

“So… are you going to do anything about it?” Millicent asked once Pansy had finished her rant.

“About which part exactly?” Pansy prompted. “Her annoying laugh or her eavesdropping?”

“No, the fact that you have a crush on her,” Millicent answered, idiotic innocence all over her face. 

Pansy saw red as she stormed out of their dorm room. “I DO NOT HAVE A FUCKING CRUSH!”

She’d be leaving for Christmas in a few days. She could only hope in a few days all her so-called friends would be done with their silly delusions.

And she’d stop thinking about freckled arms.

\---

Pansy spent most of the holidays shut in her room, avoiding relatives as best she could. She made her necessary outings. Her mother nagged and yelled about as much as she expected. 

Her time alone led to some introspection. She had gained another year of teenage nonsense with the wonderful Eighth Year addition for her class, but soon she’d be out in the real Wizarding World trying to make a name for herself separate from her family’s reputation. She had no bloody clue what she wanted to do. With her family’s mild fortune, she didn’t need to. She’d figure it out eventually.

Some of her more nosy relatives asked fervently about her love life. It was clear they were hoping she’d quash the rumours. She didn’t. Gave non-answers on how she  _ wasn’t interested in dating at the moment. _ Lying through her teeth, as usually. Because she was very interested, but the sapphic pool at Hogwarts was limited.

And lately, she only had eyes for…

There was no use in denying it to herself, she was drooling over…

Honestly, she can admit it! 

Pansy knew all her friends were well aware now, no thanks to Blaise. Other students may have taken notice. The Gryffindors might know too, if they were all listening in to their conversation at Three Broomsticks. 

Maybe even Weasley herself was aware of Pansy’s hopeless musings.

Except, they didn’t feel completely hopeless. In fact, they more Pansy thought about it, maybe she had a chance. Weasley had declared she swung both ways and there was her interest in Pansy and Tracey and the glint in her eye when she returned the scarf and—

Pansy was a damn fine catch! Any lady would be lucky to have her, even strong Quidditch players with pretty brown eyes.

Lying in her bed, Pansy convinced herself to throw herself at Weasley, despite her dignity begging her not to. Oh well, her dignity has suffered a lot the past few years, getting laid wasn’t going to do much more damage. Especially not with a hot ginger.

\---

Class resumed at Hogwarts. Pansy swapped stories with her friends, but let none know of her plans. 

Not that she really had plans. She wasn’t sure how to go about pursuing Weasley. The only time she ever really saw her was in the Great Hall. So she’d have to wait until their paths crossed.

The opportunity presented itself in February, when the Gryffindor-Slytherin match was scheduled. Pansy was told it may be the deciding game for the Cup, but she paid little mind to the standings. She had only gone to the first game Slytherin played, against Hufflepuff. But she decided to go to the Gryffindor game. In fact, she decided to go early. She’d get a front row seat, just in case—

A red robe flew by, causing Pansy to jump. She was indeed in the front row of the Slytherin stands, with a seat saved next to her for Daphne. It wasn’t Weasley that flew by, probably one of the other chasers. Pansy didn’t know most of the names of the Gryffindor teams, besides the Weasleys and Potter. 

As Pansy squinted at the offer side of the pitch, where the Gryffindor team was huddled, she didn’t notice a broom fly into her peripheral.

“You’ll have the best view for all my goals,” the flying figure said.

Pansy immediately turned to her left, finding Ginny Weasley leaning forward on her broom. Pansy was frozen for a moment, as it was the closest she had been to Weasley in many weeks. She could see how her skin paled and freckles faded without the warm sun. It made her hair stand out even more, even while wearing her scarlet uniform.

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” Pansy replied once she stopped gawking.

“Oh, you will,” Weasley promised. A teammate made called for her and she gripped her broom to fly away.

“Ginny!” Pansy exclaimed, causing the redhead to pause. Her eyes were wide at hearing her name. Pansy almost blanked on what else to say, before deciding on, “Good luck.”

Ginny smiled, clearly feeling victorious already. She sped away but Pansy knew she’d be back soon. Now, all Pansy had to do was sit back and enjoy the game.

\---

“Ginny Weasley’s got the Quaffle again, is it time for another goal? She dodges a — wait, what’s that? POTTER HAS SNITCH!”

It was an exciting game, Pansy could admit. Ginny winked her direction every time she scored. As disappointed as Pansy was that her house lost, Ginny’s grin as she flew towards the Slytherin stands. The rest of her team was attacking Potter with hugs and cheers. 

“Whatcha think?” Ginny breathed, exasperated from the hard-won game. She leaned into the silent stands, well into Pansy’s personal space.

“Not bad,” Pansy allowed, her restrained smirk threatening to break into a smile.

Ginny laughed and Pansy couldn’t hold herself back at the sound. She pulled Ginny’s forward by the front of her robes, crashing their mouths together with little eloquence. When Pansy let her go, Ginny looked as if she’d been struck with Stupefy.

“What was that for?” she finally sighed.

“A reward for winning,” Pansy whispered.

Ginny knocked their foreheads together. Her brown eyes grew darker, mesmerizing Pansy. “Do I get any more? I scored  _ a lot.” _

“I suppose,” Pansy purred, twirling her finger into Ginny’s hair. “But not here.”

Ginny nodded slowly. “I’ll be in the dungeons in ten minutes.”

“Promise?” Pansy teased.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Pansy Parkinson.”

Pansy believed her as she sped away on her broom. Ginny pumped her fists in the air as if she had just won a second match in the past few minutes. Daphne was making what Pansy could infer was a snarky comment even though she was no longer listening.

The only thoughts that were in her head now were images of fair arms flexing and ginger hair on emerald sheets.

Pansy decided she was gonna kiss every single freckle on Ginny Weasley.

\---

Ginny’s hands glided down Pansy’s tan skin, sending a shiver through her. Pansy felt overwhelmed in every sense, every inch of her sensitive to Ginny’s touch. Her eyes stared up in awe at Ginny. Both of their clothes had been vanished many minutes ago, neither sure who cast the spell. Probably both of them. Pansy’s red lipstick was smudged on all over Ginny, her face, her neck, and, yes, her arms.

Pansy was on her back. When Ginny’s fingers reached the top of her thighs, she spread her legs further, encouraging with a faint whine. They brushed past her clit, causing frustration to well in Pansy’s chest. It was soon quelled when one finger slid inside her. Pansy immediately rocked into it, shuddering at the sudden pleasure.

Ginny leaned down to kiss her neck and chest, whispering sweet things that Pansy probably didn’t deserve, but she enjoyed anyway.

More fingers joined the first and Pansy marvelled as Ginny’s muscles worked. Her hair was sticking to the sides of her face, like it did when Pansy peaked into practice months ago. 

There was an intensity to every movement, every kiss, every breath. Pansy knew it was the distant disdain, something both of them had ignored most of the year, but was permanently in their past. 

If you’d told Pansy last February, she’d be in a bed with a Weasley a year later, she may have tried to kill you for suggesting such a thing. 

She was glad she changed her mind about Ginny, especially when she crashed over the edge. Her legs clenching around Ginny as she moaned her name, tossing her head back into her pillow. 

In that very moment, it felt like every mistake Pansy ever made had been worth it. Because she was here now, blissful underneath a beautiful girl. Who cares if it was a Gryffindor, or if her friends were going to tease her for  _ months. _ She felt happy.

Pansy hadn’t realized how long it had been since she was happy until she felt it again.

She surged up to kiss Ginny. She broke it briefly to say, “Your turn.” Ginny went tumbling down onto the bed and Pansy straddled her, kissing down her chest and stomach.

The rest of eighth year was going to be brilliant. 

She was going to get  _ so _ many Howlers from her mother.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comment appreciated!


End file.
